


The Great Escape

by LKChoi



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fiction, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Smut, Vixx - Freeform, hyukbin, leon - Freeform, neo - Freeform, raken, shangri la
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-25 07:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12031086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LKChoi/pseuds/LKChoi
Summary: Is paradise a dream we’ve yet to behold, or is it a far worse reality than we could ever imagine?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say, VIXX’s “Shangri La” MV was profoundly beautiful, and the Legend of Shangri La has a mysterious attractiveness to it that I felt was well captured by VIXX, the song and the music video. This inspired me. I knew I wanted to write something involving this concept but I wasn’t quite sure of what to do. Then, I mindlessly started writing this fic. To be honest, I have almost no idea where this is going but I want to keep writing because I’m so drawn to it. As of the day of this post I have some new ideas so I may be able to work towards those as time goes by. God forbid I don’t complete this fic O_O, in which case, I apologize now. But if you feel that perhaps this is going somewhere, then join me on this journey of mysticism and prettiful stuffs lol. Thanks for giving this fic a chance and wish me luck. Feedback and criticism is extremely welcome. Thanks for reading ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Go check out the music video ^o^
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYEaI5y7QaM
> 
> Note: "Eotteokaji" is simply Ken's cute way of saying "Eottheokhe haji" which translates to "What do I do?"

_Where am I?_

The last thing Wonshik remembered was being chased. Some older boys at school didn’t like how much he stood out and had finally decided to do something about it. They hated how girls melted at the sound of his deep voice. They hated his rich background and natural good looks. They hated the high marks that earned him praise and recommendations from teachers.

And they hated his indifference towards it all. They were too envious to realize how much he hated it himself.

Life was easy if you were born a first son. Automatic respect, a promising future, financial security and all the materialistic benefits that came with them: he had it all. But those things felt like boulders over his casket, burying him deeper and deeper beneath the pressure. He never wanted it. Not like what he wanted actually mattered. He was supposed to graduate high school with honors and go to business school. He would take that education to the steps of his father’s company and assume the position promised to him, get married, then breed a son who would repeat that same daunting cycle.

Wonshik didn’t want that. He wanted lazy afternoons, fiddling with sound combos using his favorite composing program. To happily rock his head when the mesh finally turned into something that could remotely be called a composition. To tap a ballpoint pen on a blank sheet of paper from his favorite notebook. For images in his head to come alive in the form of words. For those words to become lyrics to his very own song. And, finally, to greet an expectantly hype crowd, shouting his name as that familiar rhythm started and he brought the mic to his lips.

He couldn’t do that. His father wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t be anyone or anywhere his heart yearned to be. He couldn’t be himself.

Now his lungs were stinging and his chest was tight, and the grounds of his high school were lost in some unknown direction. His bullies must have lost him a long time ago, and his long aching legs must have taken him very far, because as he stood winded and peered about, nothing was remotely familiar.

“Fuck,” he huffed as he searched this way and that for anything that could lead him back.

Wonshik turned about and started walking, his muscles screaming at him for pushing them pass their limits. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He absently glanced up through the towering treetops at the pastel pinks and oranges of sunset. A cool breeze rustled the branches and whipped pass him, chilling his skin. He sighed deeply and let his eyes flutter shut.

All the forest around him came alive in the absence of sight. As night slowly descended around him, summer cicadas awakened and sang their boisterous song. Crickets awakened to join in the chorus. Bushes rustled as small woodland animals scurried through them. In that moment of peace, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to get lost.

When he opened his eyes again, it had gotten darker, the green of the treetops now towering shadows against the darkening sky. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled his cellphone from the back pocket of his uniform pants. The digital clock told him it was well pass five. He pondered for a moment how long he had been running, how far out he’d gone. His thumb tapped the flashlight at the top of his screen, and a brilliant light emanated from the device. He turned around with the light, scanning in a circle over tree trunk after tree trunk, seeing no clear indication of the direction he came from. With a defeated groan, he walked forward.

For countless minutes, Wonshik fought his way through bushes, some outstretched branches snagging his blazer and pants. He was beside himself, anxiously swiping at his hair and swatting his body wherever he thought he felt the tickle of a bug crawling on him. He was beyond relieved when he emerged from the trees at a clearing beside a river, the placid water a shimmering blue, cutting through the darkness.

Wonshik turned his light towards the ground. The wild grass grown high to his knees swayed with a cold gust that made him shiver. He pressed on, marching through the growth, relieved when it cleared a few minutes down the riverbank. He collapsed next to the stream, catching himself on all fours. His phone fumbled from his hand and landed on its back, leaving him with only the natural light of a semi full moon. He panted, his arms and legs wobbly as they failed to support him. His journey had taken its toll, and he resented himself for that. He’d been too depressed to keep up his gym training, and his body was succumbing to his lessened endurance. He toppled over to his side, his head hitting hard and bouncing once before landing again.

A pitiful sound escaped from Wonshik as his head throbbed and his fingernails dug into the dirt. His body felt like a stack of boulders, still and heavy in its weariness. There was no way he could move more than the digits, and slowly but surely, he was losing consciousness. His vision started to fade, and in his haziness, he contemplated how hard he hit his head. A concussion would explain the strange things he sensed before completely passing out. The pastel pink petals that had begun to rain down all around him. The sweet scent of fresh peaches wafting through the air. The blurry sight of a young boy in traditional garb gliding towards him, and a sweet voice silently panicked as he muttered to himself:

_“Eotteokaji?”_

…

Wonshik groaned as he came to, suddenly feeling queasy as his body rocked gently, as if sleeping on a wave. He carefully peeled his eyes open, and involuntarily they scrunched together, the nerves struck by brightness all around him. He kept them shut and took a deep breath, realizing immediately that his back was lying against hard wood. The swaying continued and for a moment he felt like he was going to just turn over and wretch out his guts. He swallowed and braced himself, familiarizing himself with the sway of what he guessed was a boat as the nausea slipped away.

Wonshik attempted to open his eyes again, this time better adjusting to the light as it pooled into his sockets. He was stunned to realize that the glow was emanating from nature itself. The moon hung high above glittering stars, a full sphere with an ethereal luminescence. The wind was gentle as it barely shifted his clothes and grazed his hair, once again carrying that sweet peachy fragrance. Layers of outstretched branches overlay each other overhead, barely blocking the starlit sky. They were colored a blushing pink, the leaves falling like a soft shower of gumdrops landing silently on the surface of the river.

Wonshik clutched the ledge of the boat and gaped down into the water. Below the surface, swift sparks of lights appeared and disappeared. One light grew and emerged, and it wasn’t until the creature shot out of the water that he realized it was a fish. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Its scales were a multitude of shimmering blues, purples and pinks. Just as soon as it flickered into existence, it was gone again, landing back into the water with a soundless plop, beneath the ripples that erased its path, fading down into the dark depths.

“Ah, you’re awake?” That boy’s voice again, but much more cheerful this time.

_So, he was real. Did he save me?_

“Just relax. We'll be there soon.”

Wonshik glanced before him and saw the same silk robes from what he thought was a vision. They were blush pink, like that of the petals tumbling all around them, stark against the darkness when he first laid eyes on them, now a shimmering veil against smooth pale skin in the light. The robes fluttered against a slender frame as skinny arms flexed with each stroke of an oar, the boy working tirelessly to usher their boat along the placid stream.

The garment slipped from his right shoulder, revealing a peculiar tattoo. Three full bloomed vanilla flowers were framed in a triangle sitting on its point. The smooth blend and soft hue of the artwork made it seem more like a painting on porcelain rather than an imprint on human skin. That is, assuming that this boy was even human. He shuddered and gently sat the oars across his lap, taking a moment to shrug the cloth back over his shoulders. When the boy glanced back at Wonshik, and soft brown eyes met his through a dirty blonde fringe, Wonshik doubted that such a beautiful person could be anything but mythical. 

“Cute,” he gasped, and quickly clamped his hands over his mouth. Wonshik’s heart stuttered, ashamed that his mind moved faster than his lips could resist. The boy blushed and scrunched his eyes shut while flashing him a wide grin. It was a smug expression, that disappeared once the strange boy was satisfied with basking in the compliment.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a soothing voice, flashing Wonshik the peace sign. “I’ll take really good care of you.”

Wonshik was so stunned by the boy's beauty that it almost slipped his mind to inquire about his earlier statement.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked, his voice a mix of worry and curiosity.

The boy gazed up at the moon, beaming high in the sky through the shifting trees and shower of blossoms. For a moment, it seemed as if his mind was lost on something that Wonshik couldn’t quite place. He turned around, grabbing the oars before continuing to row the boat along the river once more. Then, in a proud and excited voice, he announced:

“To Shangri La.”                                                                

…

“Hyung wondered off again,” chirped a youthful blonde boy with a mature voice.

His black lotus-print cardigan twisted in the wind behind him and his red shirt fluttered against his chest as he dashed forward to catch up to the man he was speaking to. The slightly taller man simply shrugged, his broad shoulders prominent when the cloth of his royal blue leaf-print suit jacket tightened. His hands were stashed in his pockets as he leisurely strolled along the narrow stone path cutting through vibrant flowerbeds, his beauty complimenting them instead of the other way around.

“No surprise there,” he said dismissively. “but you sound more excited than worried.”

Sanghyuk chuckled low and covered a sly grin behind his hand.

“Well, that’s because whenever Hyung goes to the outside world, he finds amusing things.”

“I guess,” he smirked.

Hongbin knew that by _amusing_ _things_ he was referring to him. He couldn’t recall how long ago Jaehwan brought him to Shangri La, or anything about his life aside from his name. His earliest memory of this place was Hyuk. He was here when he arrived and took a liking to him.  They had stuck together ever since. To Hyuk, Hongbin was entertaining, in more ways than one. The feeling was mutual.

Hyuk seemed much younger than him, but in a place frozen in time, things like age had no real bearing on anything, except to the Ancients, those who seemed as old as the place itself. By typical seniority standards, Hyuk was much older considering he was there first. For how long? He had no idea. But Shangri La was no ordinary place, and Hyuk was no ordinary man. Hongbin felt strongly about that, but something in his gut told him he didn’t want to know the details.

 In spite of his appearance, Hyuk was definitely ancient, and so was the man who’d gone wondering off to the outside as he so often did. He would do this every few days and return with a new person. Hongbin would see those people for a while then they’d disappear. Where they went and why, he didn’t know. Just as soon as he found himself contemplating those things, Hyuk would come to him. He’d forget specifics soon-after, whether it was a woman man or child, not knowing or caring. He was here to stay, and he was contended with that. So long as he had Hyuk, that’s all that really mattered.

“If this person is amusing, I guess you’ll have no use for me then.”

Hyuk threw his head back laughing, slapping Hongbin’s shoulder in the process. When he calmed down, he curled his arms around his neck and leaned against his back. Hongbin felt the warm press against him and stopped in his tracks so they both wouldn’t fall. Hyuk’s breath fanned his neck, then his earlobe as he leaned in to whisper to him.

“You think I would discard you that easily?” He asked in a menacing tone.

Hongbin released a deep sigh and turned in his arms, bringing them face to face. He lowered his head, their foreheads pressing together as he nuzzled his nose. Hyuk rewarded his gesture with a soft kiss to his lips. Hongbin slipped his hands to Hyuk’s hips, swaying in silence for a moment before cracking a mischievous smile of his own.

“You wouldn’t do that. You like me too much,” he boasted confidently. “But you’re bored, I can tell. That, doesn’t seem like a good thing.”

Sometimes Hyuk would disappear as well. Right after, he would witness rifts in the peaceful harmony of Shangri La. Time seemed to move again. The colors of the flowers would fade. The pastel skies were dotted with thick gray storm clouds. He didn’t understand what any of it meant, but his instincts told him it was something dreadful. And that Hyuk was at the epicenter of it.

“Beanie, I’m hurt,” Hyuk pouted. “What are you trying to say?”

Hyuk was playing a game with him now, daring him to be bold. Everything in Hongbin’s gut told him not to dare, less he become one of the vanished ones. But he couldn’t help himself, so his mouth moved faster than his brain could silence him.

“I’m suggesting that when you get bored, you get nasty.”

Hyuk chuckled lowly and leaned in for another kiss, this one more forceful and open, his tongue probing Hongbin’s mouth until he opened up with a moan. Hongbin’s grip on Hyuk’s cardigan tightened as their tongues slithered together, his mind swimming with heat from the possessive kiss. They separated with a smack, Hyuk only moving an inch from his face as he curled his fingers into his hair.

“You know you love it,” Hyuk growled against his lips, tightening the grip in his hair. The slight pain and heat sent chills down Hongbin’s spine. He bit his lip and stared into the angel-faced boy’s eyes.  

He lost all that he knew when he came to Shangri La, and now Hyuk was his everything. The only thing he knew about the place was its peace, its beauty and its seemingly boundless existence. He wasn’t even sure if it was tethered to any planet known to man. Hyuk was old, timeless in both beauty and wisdom, just like the other Ancients he sometimes caught glimpses of. Hyuk knew so much, yet told him nothing. Hongbin knew that he was dangerous, and that he was helplessly attached to him. He knew nothing else, had nothing else. Nothing but Hyuk and Shangri La. Hyuk gave him a knowing look, as if reading his thoughts. He smiled and took his hand, turning back in the direction he came.

“Never mind this new arrival,” Hyuk advised, tugging him along. “I’ll meet them in time I’m sure. Let us focus on other matters.”

“Where are we going?” Hongbin asked cautiously.

“We are going to do what is meant to be done in such a place as Shangri La: to bask in the pleasures of paradise.”

With that, Hongbin followed his unpredictable lover to where they resided, his mind reeling with images of what those pleasures could possibly be.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reeeeally sorry for this late and probably brief update. I've been busy with other projects as well as some mental health issues. I'm still to this day over-thinking everything in existence so this is the most solid scene I can provide. This should hopefully start to paint the picture of Wonshik's situation. Currently I have several ideas but my issue is battling with which one fits the best. I don't want to throw off what I already established and I definitely don't want to leave this story incomplete since I'm so fixated on it. Anxiety is a real bitch so pleeeaase bare with me T_T. 
> 
> Any suspicions or theories? Feel free to share them in the comments. All feedback is helpful. Please and thank you ^^

“Shangri…La…?” Wonshik repeated in question.

His travel companion had grown quiet since he spoke the words, as if just speaking it into existence held all the answers in the world. Not once did he glance back at Wonshik after that. Did he even move again? Wonshik didn’t know, but he pressed further, questioning his rescuer as a strong sense of foreboding continued to grow.

Wonshik crawled forward in the boat, causing it to sway roughly. The strange boy braced himself, setting his ores across his lap and holding the wood on either side of him before quickly looking back.

“That’s not a good idea,” he panicked.

“Nice of you to finally speak to me,” Wonshik snapped back. “What is this Shangri La place and what do you mean by that?”

“The boat,” he insisted. “Don’t rock the boat. If you fall out you’ll regret it.”

“I know how to swim,” Wonshik boasted confidently.

The boy shook his head disapprovingly.

“Not against _this_ current,” he said darkly. “You’ll lose yourself.”

A moment of silence passed between them before the boy turned back around and continued to row. Wonshik sat back, staring blankly as petals fall in silence onto his shoulders, disappearing against the pink silk of his clothes. Wonshik wasn’t one to quickly believe others, but he felt the weight of his warning. Something in his gut told him not to doubt it.

Yet he couldn’t help his curiosity. Wonshik peered over the side of the boat into the water, his eyes catching flickers of light that he assumed were fish like the one he saw earlier. They were gathered in large masses far beneath the surface, thick and misty like storm clouds rolling across a black sky.

His curiosity became magnetic as Wonshik gripped the edge of the boat, gazing deeply into the water. The masses started to fade, sinking deeper into the darkness. He wondered when they had gathered, having seen only one earlier. He wondered where they were going, thinking the river itself couldn’t be that much deeper. He felt helplessly drawn to them, as if the river itself was beckoning him, calling him down to join them.

Before he even realized it, Wonshik had leaned further over and his hands were slipping off the ledge of the boat. The water was closer to his face now, his bangs fallen down and brushing the wetness. Wonshik suddenly felt cold all over and shuddered at the feeling. It felt like everything else he experienced was a dream. The rain of blossoms. The sweetness in the air. That beautiful mysterious boy. It was as if he was already under, helplessly gazing up at the bottom of the boat, his hand flailing uselessly in the darkness as he silently cried for help.

“Wonshik!”

He was roused by the sound of his name and choked as his shirt collar tightened around his neck. He gasped when he flew backwards, landing painfully on the floor of the boat. The boat rocked roughly and pink petals continued to rain all around him.

Wonshik gaped down at the boy. He had fallen on his backside, panting while still clutching the hem of Wonshik’s blazer.

“I told you,” he shouted as Wonshik slowly sat up. “You don’t want to fall in there.”

“How…how do you know my name?” 

When he finally caught his breath, he didn’t reply. He simply let go of Wonshik’s jacket and stared off in the distance.

“So, we’re back to silence, huh,” Wonshik laughed dryly. “Fine, if you don’t want to answer that then can I at least know your name? You did just save my life after all.”

When he faced Wonshik again, there was sadness in his eyes. Wonshik couldn’t quite figure out why, but he seemed almost guilty. After another long moment of silence, a soft smile spread across his face, fondness replacing the sadness.

“Jaehwan,” he answered bashfully, “My name is Jaehwan. There’s a lot I can’t tell you. But I’ll take you there, to the place with all the answers to your questions.”

“Shangri La,” Wonshik quoted him.

Jaehwan seemed pleased with that, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips displaying just how much.

“Trust me,” Jaehwan reassured him. “Everything will be clear soon.”

Wonshik took no comfort in his words, but opted out of questioning him further. It was clear that Jaehwan would tell him nothing, and by that look he received earlier, it seemed as if he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He was treading dangerous waters now. He could feel it in his bones.

Suddenly, a strong gust rushed through the atmosphere. It pushed powerfully against the boat, making it rock as a whirlwind of petals kicked up in a pink tornado around them. With it came a powerful peach scent, the aroma so thick that Wonshik felt overwhelmed and nauseous. He went into a full coughing fit, powerless to stop himself as he gagged into thin air.

Jaehwan calmly rose to his feet. Wonshik felt dizzy as he watched his height climb, staring helplessly as he came towards him. He was tall and beautiful, a striking form amidst the haze of petals and peach. He stood unmoved by the wind twisting his sash, the thin material of his robes fluttering against his skin as he stared down into Wonshik’s eyes.

“Hel…” Wonshik choked out, but was hushed when Jaehwan leaned down and touched his lips.

“No sorrow. No pain,” Jaehwan whispered into the wind, which seemed to echo throughout the whirlwind and in Wonshik’s mind. “Your transition will be a restful one.”

Jaehwan’s hand felt like a feather against his skin as it smoothed over cheek and slipped into his scalp. Before Wonshik realized it, he was laying backwards, sinking back onto the floor. Jaehwan leaned over him, his hand cupping the back of his head as he helped set it down gently onto the floor.

“No sorrow. No pain,” Jaehwan repeated gently, and this time it sounded like a lullaby sung softly in his ear.

All Wonshik could feel or think of was Jaehwan. The entirety of his being was engulfed by his presence. Controlled by him like a puppet. Soothed by him like a child against its mother’s breast. He felt sleepy and light-weight, swaying gently as the boat continued to rock in the whirlwind. Jaehwan’s voice was like a melody he couldn’t compose. Lyrics he yearned to write. A song in physical form.

Wonshik’s sense of self slowly slipped away. The world was coated in pink as millions of petals buried him, that sweet fragrance overtaking all of his senses like a strong peach scented incense. The song that was Jaehwan carried him off to sleep. His body felt like lead beneath the soft floral grave. His eyelids closed and his breathing slowed to a stop. His heart stilled.

Then all went black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, an entire Neo chapter O.O!!! lol. Sorry for the long updates. With this chapter it was a matter of having two iffy ideas that last minute became one solid idea. I hope I was able to convey things properly here. There are a lot of different elements at play within this as well as new information. I feel like this fic is lowkey turning into a VIXX MV with all the puzzling stuff scattered throughout lol. Hope you’re just as intrigued. Drop any theories or discoveries in the comments. Enjoy ^^
> 
> Note: A hanfu is a type of traditional Chinese robe which originates from the Han Dynasty.

 

A translucent golden canopy draped around brass pillars, making the two bodies within appear as golden statues beyond the veil. Sweaty skin slapped together as limbs entwined and moans reverberated through the room. They were opposing gods, clashing on the battlefield of love, their passions primal and mighty as they melted under each other’s touch.

The Sun God trembled, a shaky gasp escaping him as his lover pushed deeper into him, cold eyes burrowing into his warm browns. One strong hand gripped his hip, sharp fingernails digging crescent moons into his skin, as the other fisted the satin pillow beside his head. He winced at the burn of the stretch, but his partner waited patiently as he took deep breaths to relax into the feeling. The Death God remained steady until he felt him relax before starting up a deliciously slow rhythm that had him falling apart in a matter of minutes.

“Tae...kwoon…ah…”

Taekwoon groaned, spurred on by the sound of his name on his lover’s blistered lips. He wanted, _needed,_ to be sheathed inside of him completely. He felt lightheaded, like the entirety of his being was no longer tethered to this realm or any other. Everything was warm, burning hotter as he floated higher and further away from himself and into the sun, _his_ sun, his Hakyeon.

He yearned to soak it up, while he still had time.

“Hakyeon.”

Hakyeon chuckled breathlessly, satisfied to hear his own name fumble out of his typically silent partner’s mouth.

He slipped his slender arms around Taekwoon’s neck and dragged him down, his lashes fluttering against the tips of Taekwoon’s damp black fringe, their breaths mingling in a pocket of hot air that fanned both of their faces.

“Say it again,” Hakyeon pleaded. “Say…say my, ah- “

Taekwoon threw his head back, desperately pounding into him faster. Hakyeon clawed at his shoulders and moaned, the crown of his head digging into the pillow, his small request abandoned as he wrapped his legs around Taekwoon’s waist.

Taekwoon clung to the heat that Hakyeon gave him. Passion, love, lust, the name did not matter to him. He couldn’t place his feelings, nor in their centuries together did he ever bother to try. He refused to squander it by attaching it to a human sentiment that seemed temporary or fleeting. He feared it would diminish its power, snuff out the fire that brightened his endlessly cold existence. Hakyeon, in turn, soothed the chill that gripped Taekwoon like an icy noose about his neck. Liberating him if only for a moment. Allowing him to breathe.

They had spent an immeasurable amount of time as Guardians, born into their duties, as old as the realms they oversaw. While Hakyeon was tasked as guardian of Shangri La, Taekwoon was burdened with keeping the souls who were deemed unfit for it. Just like those souls, ripped from the warmth and glory of paradise, he was too. Except that, unlike the lost human souls, Taekwoon was ancient, wise and most unfortunately, aware.

Three human days, which felt a mere nanosecond to an immortal, was all the time they had together until judgement was passed on another group of souls. Mere seconds of warmth and life, to his eternity of darkness; neither Taekwoon nor Hakyeon took that time for granted.

…

 “Master Hakyeon,” a servant called outside of his large imperial chamber. “A new arrival, sir.”

By the time Hakyeon was called from his chamber,  the two were cleaned and dressed as if nothing had transpired between them.

Everything about Hakyeon was regal. His sun-kissed skin that seemed as golden as the drapery that hung over his bed and shielded the windows from outside light. The embroidered details along the front garment of his black and white hanfu, intricate as the weavings of the tapestries spread across the floor. His slow graceful steps as he emerged in complete, decedent form from behind a large partition.

Taekwoon’s appearance was humbler. A high quality yet simplistic kimono with the design of a jackal in silver imprinted on the back, his sash a matching metallic shade with ancient symbols along the inner and outer collars. It was clear that his place was not among the brilliance within this bedroom, let alone the vibrancy of Shangri La itself, but he would never vocalize the thought. Not unless he wanted to waste the brief time he had hearing Hakyeon nag at him for thinking such a thing in the first place.

Taekwoon quietly waited for Hakyeon near the double doors, engraving his radiance to memory as if it was the last time his eyes would behold it. To Taekwoon, that’s what it felt like. Soon he would face a long period of time before his return to Shangri La, when the next batch of souls would be judged. Hakyeon knew it too, and as talkative as he could be, it was the only time he couldn’t find the words to say. When they were leaving his palace, a small group of shapeless servant spirits trailed a few feet behind the two gods to give them privacy as they walked the tree-lined path out of the inner sanctum.

The sun seemed to burn a million times brighter every time Taekwoon was exposed to it, as if his small cold self could melt away into nothing from its heat. But if that heat could replicate that which Hakyeon ignited within his soul, then he would fade a thousand times just that way. Hakyeon smiled at him when he caught him staring mindlessly as that thought passed his mind, and he quickly turned away, his eyes focusing on the fruits that hung from branches all around them.

They were all peculiarly colored peaches, golden as the imperial palace that was now a yard behind them, the brilliant sun blindingly reflected off their skin as they dangled overhead. Ancient fruits of paradise that for centuries have been the source of human myths that speak of miracles and immortality. Taekwoon’s eyes flicked indifferently at the crowded crowns of the trees, then focused back on Hakyeon.

“I wonder,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, inaudible if not for their close proximity. “if another human soul will ever earn one.”

“I suppose we’ll find out in due,” Hakyeon chuckled softly. “They all face judgement at some point.”

“Do not waver,” Taekwoon warned. “It makes my job harder and Hyuk’s job more fun. Chasing down souls that you misjudge due to human empathy is bothersome.”

“Humans are more complicated than they seem Taekwoonie,” he replied with a cautionary tone. “And most of all, unpredictable.”

They walked in silence, the spirits hovering closer as they reached the large doors that slowly creaked open, revealing a cloudy staircase that descended into a dreamy and vibrant landscape down below.

A high railing ran from around the landing where the gate opened and curled downward along the stairs. Sanghyuk was perched at the top, swinging his feet and whistling, his blonde hair in perfect contrast to the black of his kimono, the skull on the back menacing as it grinned across his back. His tune halted when they came out and like a crow he jumped from his spot, landing slowly and gracefully in front of them with a grin that matched the skull on his back.

“Took you long enough, Boss,” he jeered.

When Hakyeon giggled, the delicate hand he held at his mouth not hiding it at all, Taekwoon threw him a glare. The look sent the spirits flying a few more feet behind the Sun God, and they didn’t dare to return to his side until they were beckoned with a wave of his hand. They flinched when Taekwoon glanced at them, their disembodied forms quivering in the face of Death even though they couldn’t die. He released a defeated huff before turning to walk away.

“Where’s your pet?” Taekwoon shot back at Sanghyuk, which only made him laugh.

“Indisposed at the time,” he boasted, his hands and shoulders shrugging up as if he had no part in it.

“I envy your carefree attitude,” Taekwoon sighed with a head shake.

Hakyeon hesitated, then quickly reached for Taekwoon’s hand, but the tips of his fingers barely brushed the sleeve of his kimono. Taekwoon looked back at him just as he drew his hand away, and there it was. A flash of sadness in the radiant face that sent a sharp spike through his immortal heart.

The distance, the drag of eternal time, the weight of their duties, and their fleeting time together left both of them yearning. They envied humans at times like these, when they were reminded how much dreams didn’t exist for them but could mean a precious moment of happiness to a mortal soul. They weren’t meant to experience paradise. They only had these brief moments and an eternity of toiling away giving and taking it from others.

Shangri La was not meant for them. That fact was made clear whenever Taekwoon simply glanced at Hakyeon, crestfallen and holding back feelings that scared him more than anything in existence, before turning around and descending the stairs with his reaper trailing gleefully behind him.

…

Hongbin groaned awake, his eyes carefully peeling open one at a time. He was used to being unaware of pain until times like this when his body felt wrecked and devoid of even a single ounce of strength. A loud rumble shook his soul, sending a wave of fear through him as he sat up slowly and peered through a window Sanghyuk left open while he slept.

No birds sang. The air didn’t carry its usual mix of unrecognizable sweetness. The sky darkened with thick gray clouds that blocked the sun and covered all places its light once touched. He was trembling before he realized it, left clutching the sheets at his sides and staring stupidly as darkness descended over all the land.

He didn’t see, didn’t know, but he could _feel_ the rift in paradise. The peace of Shangri La once again disrupted by something dreadful, something he his soul warned him that he didn’t want to ever face.  

“Shield your eyes. Sleep now.”

The whispered command filled his mind, the voice of his guardian compelling him to move.

Hongbin recoiled beneath the duvet with his head covered, inhaling the familiar scent, wishing more than anything that Hyuk was by his side. He trembled at the storm roaring and shaking everything outside, but much like the thick cover suddenly felt the warm embrace of Sanghyuk’s scent surround his entire being. It calmed his racing heart, and slowly but surely, he was falling fast asleep once again. As the sounds of the storm faded and the arms of slumber closed warmly around his quaking soul, he became ignorant of Sanghyuk’s malicious laughter echoing through the air and the sounds of screams that followed.

 


	4. chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. That was never really my intention. I’ve just been in and out of some bad home circumstances and mental health issues. Plus, I want to plot and write this carefully, and the last thing I want to do is give you guys something that didn’t make sense (unless intentional XD) or wasn’t of the same quality, all for the sake of updating just to update. Well, here we are. Hope it was worth the wait. I’ll keep working hard. Feel free to leave feedback. Thanks for reading ^^
> 
> A/N: VIXX comeback soon YES ^o^!!! They were trying to kill us beforehand with that Havana performance though. Okay VIXX. I see you -_-

A fierce wind rocked against the window pane, rattling the frame as raindrops struck the glass incessantly. The wind howled with increased momentum, upsetting the bare camphor tree in the yard and knocking it against the house. Its branches scratched at the glass angrily, threatening and persistent, begging to be let in.

Wonshik’s heart raced, but he willed himself to breathe in deeply, inhaling the soft fragrance of mountain breeze fabric softener, then exhaled calmly, relaxing beneath his blanket, knowing that he was safe in his bed.

The muffled sound of an obnoxious comedian filtered through the floorboards, drowned out a moment later by a cued laugh track. Soon-after, familiar voices rose and clashed above the broadcast. His mother was begging his father to spare Wonshik a few more moments of rest before having to face the rigorous schedule that was reinforced daily. Wonshik knew that if he didn’t get up soon, his father’s pitch would rise and the sound of a firm palm striking his mother’s face would follow.

The thought erupted his newfound calm, and once again Wonshik’s heart started hammering in his chest. It shook him to the core, knowing that his mother suffered on his behalf, and that his father’s rage would turn on him next. The fear threatened him, making his mind tremble far worse than what the storm raging outside his bedroom could ever do.

Without hesitation, he left the refuge of his cozy duvet and reached for his bedroom door. When he ran through the doorway, he was already staring down at his mother sitting on the floor, wiping the corners of her teary eyes with the edge of her apron. The kitchen was in ruin all around, her silhouette surrounded by an inhabitable place coated in thick gray dust, only the floor beneath her quivering body with any tint of warmth or life.

Everything else around them was covered in darkness.

“Wonshik-ah. Wonshik-ah…”

Her mournful sobs echoed all around him, bouncing off thick walls he could not see that seemed to exist only to amplify her sorrow. Wonshik’s eyes stung with tears that quickly pooled at the corners, overflowing and streaming down his face.

“Eomma, don’t cry. I’m right here.”

He took a step towards her and again he could hear dead branches claw at his window and the wind pounding into the glass. It felt like it would shatter, that _he_ would shatter with it. He tried to ignore it, focusing solely on comforting his mother. She too seemed threatened by the storm as she glanced about the darkness frantically, cowering from an attacker she couldn’t see.

When he was only a foot away, their eyes finally met, but instead of hers softening with relief and love, they widened with fear. An aggressive wind filled the darkness, howling as it pushed Wonshik, causing him to stumble a few steps back. He almost fell but managed to stay on his feet. The howl became a roar and suddenly a distinctly familiar voice filled the space.

“Move, boy!” his father shouted fiercely.

Panicked, Wonshik whirled around but was faced with nothing but the cold, vast darkness. The enraged voice of his demanding father, the weak sobs of his defenseless mother, and the roar of the storm synchronized and surrounded him in a cyclone that lifted him off the ground.

Wonshik screamed and shouted, tears burning his eyes as his arms and legs flailed wildly. The current was powerful, pushing him higher and higher, towards an ominous spec of light as the voices melted into one chaotic howl. But the higher he went, the quieter the voices became, turning into soft whispers in his ears. The wind slowly calmed as the light grew, and instead of forcing him up it was now lifting him softly towards it.

The tears on Wonshik’s face dried as he floated and a familiar scent started to fill the air. The sweet fragrance of peaches overwhelmed his senses, and from the growing light a shower of pink petals came tumbling down, falling as Wonshik ascended. Suddenly, all was calm again, and a warmth replaced the cold darkness, filling it with soft pink petals.

Wonshik took a deep breath, allowing the sweetness to overwhelm him, making him feel light-headed as he floated closer to the growing light. He reached up towards it and it became blinding, engulfing everything.

He wanted to stare into it forever. Wanted it to be all that he would ever know or feel again. Even if he lost himself in the process, it was better than falling back down into darkness, back into the eye of the storm.

It would mean he was no longer his father’s puppet. No longer his mother’s burden. No longer a target. No longer living a lie.

Bathed in light. Consumed by light.

Free.

Reluctantly, Wonshik clenched his pained eyes shut and turned away from it.

…

When Wonshik opened them again, he was glancing up at wooden beams layered across a high ceiling. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, quickly realizing that all he experienced was nothing but a dream. He propped himself up on his elbows and they sank into the softness of the cushion beneath him. He was lying on a large futon, his school uniform still on and his blazer gathered where it was grabbed.

_That’s right, I was…_

Wonshik vaguely recalled being chased after school and getting lost, but the rest of his memory was choppy. Someone found him. Someone exotically beautiful who smelled of peaches. At some point, he almost fell somewhere cold and dark. Was it a ditch? A cliff? He didn’t know. But that beautiful boy yanked him by his jacket, saving him.

Wonshik had landed hard on a rough flat surface after that. He didn’t remember what it was, only the impact when he hit his back. Then there was a soft, warm hand on his cheek, and gentle brown eyes fixed to his own. Then all was calm, quiet and peaceful, just like the end of his dream.

Then nothing.

Wonshik must have fallen asleep after that, tired from running after who knows how long, but he was saved and had that boy to thank. A boy whose name was…

“Jaehwan.”

The name came out as a whisper that disappeared against nothing when no one answered. Wonshik sat up and glanced around the room, concluding that he was indeed alone. He sighed and stretched out his legs, making tiny observations as he looked around.

It was simplistic and traditional, the type of spacious bedroom found in most hanoks. It seemed brand new, like something built in the last few years instead of centuries ago. The blanket covering the futon he sat on was soft and white, like a thick cloud covering the entirety of it. Fresh and clean, as if it was just laid out before Wonshik arrived. A partition stood in a back corner of the room, an intricate pattern across the panels of gold outlined in red. It was positioned diagonally, leaving space to walk behind it to a closet with sliding doors of the same pattern. A light breeze drifted through the room, but the floor radiated with warmth, highlighted in spots where the sunlight beamed in.

However, unlike most modern bedrooms, there was no other furniture. No small chests or dressers for storage. No trinkets on shelves left behind by a resident or visitor. No picture proof that anyone precious like friends, family or even a pet mattered or existed. Just a place for sleep and changing. It was as if the room was meant for a person who had nothing important to hold onto. Either that, or a place where those who visited left just as quickly as they arrived.

A chill crept up Wonshik’s spine, and a sudden feeling of dread descended upon him. Something in his gut was telling him not to let his guard down, that there was definitely something off about the place.

Wonshik quickly climbed to his feet. He had to get back home, if not for his own sake, then for his mother’s. She was probably worried sick and barely holding herself together, and his father...he didn’t even want to speculate. He didn’t belong in this place, wherever it was. He needed to find Jaehwan. He had questions that needed answers.

Wonshik spotted a pair of slippers by the door. He slipped his feet into them, grabbed the edge of the door, and slid it open.   

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. Chapter 4. Currently making progress in chapter 5. Please look forward to it ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think I stressed more about the descriptions within this particular chapter far more than the content of all four of the previous chapters combined 0_0. (Worth it ^o^!)

 

Wonshik threw his hands up in defense of the brilliant sunlight as it blinded him. At first, it was all he could see or feel, just a warm hazy light that covered anything and everything. But it faded as the sun retreated behind rolling white clouds, endless clouds that blended into snow covered mountain peaks, higher than the eye could see. Wonshik blinked a few times, and when his vision came to, he was astonished by the bountiful beauty of the valley before him.

Wonshik found his sneakers sitting neatly on the stone step just below the floor. After switching into them, he ventured forth, taking in all the splendor surrounding him.

It was a true Scholar’s garden, one so vast and grandiose that it could have only been commissioned by someone great and powerful. As his bewilderment orchestrated his footsteps, Wonshik felt like a peasant trespassing in royal territory. It was like stepping into a place that was majestic and beautiful just as much as it was forbidden.

Small birds chirped, weaving in and out of the crowns of Manchurian apricots, pecking at the plump orange fruit that hung from its branches. Pristine water trickled down stone falls, flowing into narrow ravines that cut through vibrant flowerbeds. A cool refreshing wind breathed into the valley, causing the treetops to rustle and whisper. Short bamboo plants bent and their foliage brushed the stones beneath them, never breaking, just sighing and swaying.

Wonshik followed stone paths that curved around massive stones surrounded by various plants. He walked over wooden bridges arching over narrow streams filled by rushing waterfalls. He peered through banana leaf gates and intricate windows carved into high stone walls, framing various scenes and forming new pathways in the garden that made it seem that much denser.

As Wonshik followed yet another path through tall leafy foliage, he started to feel less like he was calmly wandering and more like he was helplessly lost in a maze. Every path led to a new area, with flowers budding just as colorfully as the last and trees with crowns just as lush sprouting overhead. Even the mountains he first saw seemed to disappear into the plush valley, which itself seemed like a world of its own.

Wonshik started to panic, forgetting which way he came from and not knowing which way to turn. He turned round and round, seeing nothing other than abundant nature. The house he came from, where was it? Jaehwan, where did he go after leaving Wonshik there? Was he lost too?

Wonshik was thrilled when he finally heard voices, wasting no time to rush in the direction they were coming from. The murmur grew in volume, as did the sound of rushing water as his sneakers hit a flagstone path that cut through a thicket of trees and led him into an opening.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind rushed towards him, almost causing him to topple over. He paused in his footsteps to brace against it, covering his head with his arms until it stopped. He grit his teeth while holding his ground, and when it finally ceased, he panted and slowly let his arms down.

The area was bathed in sunlight, shimmering off the surface of a vast placid lake. A stone bridge with red fences protruded out of the water, leading from the clearing to a large Chinese pavilion where people were gathered in merriment, some staring out over the water while others relaxed and sipped tea. The sky was mirrored perfectly in the water’s surface, making the thin where the images met seem like the edge of the world.

Wonshik could tell that the bridge went on past that, but it was covered in a heavy mist and no one seemed to be returning from that direction. He gazed up into the mist, and in parts where it broke he could barely see the rocky slopes of mountains. Just like the ones he first saw, they reached high into thick white clouds, the pristine snowy peaks once again disappearing into them.

Wonshik’s stomach clenched and he found himself shivering, as if his mind had lifted him up into the cold unknown. He took it as a sign not to wander there. Seeing as his gut was the only reliable thing he had, he took a note of it and turned his gaze back down to the pavilion.

Wonshik started towards it, noticing that not only was the bridge coming from the two points he noted already, but from the left and right as well, creating a cross-like shape that stretched across the expanse of the lake with the building at its center. To the right, it came to another clearing, narrowing into a path that cut through more trees and a seemingly deep forest. And to the left, it led to a large traditional house, surrounded by a stone wall with a garden that flourished as abundantly and beautifully as the one he had emerged from.

_Wait. If that’s the house that I came from, then how?_

Wonshik glanced behind him and was startled when his eyes met with a misty cloud. In the few steps he’d taken, the valley became lost somewhere in the thick gray veil, making it seem miles away from where he now stood. When Wonshik focused forward, the pavilion was much closer and larger than he recalled, and the faces of countless strangers became more defined as he drew nearer.  

An elderly woman dressed in a pink and purple hanbok played hand games with small children, smiling warmly as they clapped along. A guy who looked around his age was talking with a middle-aged man dressed in a business suit. They looked like father and son, pointing as they watched red and golden koi rise and sink from the surface of the lake

Wonshik felt a twinge in his chest, something like envy washing over him. He never had such trivial yet affectionate interactions with his father, but instead merely grunts and grumbles behind a newspaper at a dead silent breakfast table.

Wonshik shook the thought from his mind. He could deal with having no relationship with that man. He could deal with being his puppet. But he couldn’t deal with how he treated his mother. If he had to keep living a lie just to save her from ever feeling pain again, then he would do it in a heartbeat. He needed to find his way back home, if not for himself, then for her.

With that conviction in mind, Wonshik entered the busy pavilion and started his inquiries. First, he tried a couple drinking tea, asking them about the place. They simply stared at him, shrugged their shoulders, then went back to sipping their tea and fawning over each other. He went to the father and son next, the older man turning once he tapped him on the shoulder.

“Can I help you, young man?”

“Ah, yes,” he replied politely. “Do you know what this place is, ahjussi?”

“Why, yes. This place is…”

The man had a complacent look on his face, like there was some sort of inner tranquility he had come to that could never be disturbed. His son turned to Wonshik smiling contently, but there was something distant in his eyes that made him look lost, like even he wasn’t sure about what he was about to say.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked with a mystified expression.

The man put his hand on his son’s shoulder before the two returned to their nature viewing.

 _Okay. That was…weird_ , thought Wonshik.

A chill traveled along Wonshik’s spine. That same eerie feeling he had back in his room. That feeling lingered as he went from one stranger to another, desperately asking them questions, hoping that even one answer would lead him home; but it was useless. Some seemed aware of themselves, like they knew where they were but simply refused to let him in on the secret. While others looked out-right high, like they were given some grade A stash that made them feel like not a single thing in the world could bring them down.

Wonshik leaned his back against a wall and sighed. He had enough of this, going from one person then another without a clue. He suspected that if he headed into that house that the same thing would happen and he’d end up right back at square one. The people coming from the house had those same blissed out expressions, as if they just had some mind-blowing sex and never came down from their post-coital high.

It was almost as if none of the mystery surrounding them could penetrate their happiness. Like that misty beyond wasn’t looming over them, or that they had navigated and triumphed over it. Only few seemed as lost as him, people from all walks of life emerging from the same place that he did, weaving in and out of the pavilion and that large house looking as lost as he felt.

Wonshik glanced to the east of the building, staring into the thicket of trees with curiosity. Perhaps he could find something there that would lead him back. Without hesitation, he crossed the bridge and pushed through the trees, finding himself surrounded by thick overgrowth within minutes of wandering. As twigs cracked beneath his sneakers and sharp branches grabbed at any loose parts of his clothing, it occurred to him that maybe no one checked here because it was impossible to navigate. There was no clear path, and with every step it seemed as if the treetops covered more and more of the sky. He couldn’t tell where was left or right, nor was it evident what direction he had come from.

Once again, Wonshik was lost.

A sudden rustle jolted him in one direction, and through a human-sized opening he could see some sort of architecture. He pushed through and emerged in front of a red Shinto gate, beyond which stood a grove of bamboo trees. The sun broke through easily, sending streams of hazy light through the tall green shoots that pierced the sky, decorating the clear cut path with yellow dots.

Wonshik was in awe of the simplistic yet ethereal scenery. It wasn’t lush like the garden he had wandered through, nor did it capture the same aesthetics as the lake he crossed to get here. This place was foreign to everything else, just a path weaving through endless green that seemed like it could go on for an eternity.

Wonshik soon discovered a trail turning off of the main path and carefully shifted between the thick green stalks to follow it. As he walked he tried searching his memory for clues, anything that could give him a hint as to where he’d come from and how he got to this mysterious place. But all he could find was Jaehwan, a boy who had clouded his mind with a beautiful smile and the aroma of peaches.

He started to wonder if he was drugged, and if this fantastical place was just a better dream after his initial nightmare. He pinched himself, wincing when he felt the all too real pain.

_Nope, not a dream._

Wonshik groaned and mussed his hair. If this is real, then what was this place? A place that no longer felt like Seoul. A place far removed from the bustling streets and bitter aroma of coffee. A place devoid of electronic screens and high fashion boutiques. A place that felt like a whole different dimension entirely.

A voice broke his train of thought, making Wonshik stop in his tracks. He pondered if that too was his imagination, until the voice went up a pitch, a cracked moan that would be silenced by the wind if not for his close proximity to it. Wonshik perked up and rushed ahead. Perhaps out in this wilderness, this stranger was also seeking refuge, struggling to find his way home. Panic started to replace his relief as the voice sounded choked, as if in pain. The growth of trees thickened as he went and he had to climb over and duck under fallen bamboo shoots that crossed his path.

He trekked to where the dirt path stopped and found a narrow opening. As he followed the hall of bamboo, the voice became louder, and another rose in volume to join it, coming out in husked whispers as the other whimpered. Wonshik’s feet continued to move and the hall of trees widened, but his stomach started to twist as he came to the sudden realization that the first voice he heard was not one of pain, but of pleasure.


	6. CHAPTER 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I banged this one out pretty quickly after CH 5, no pun intended lol. Also, there is now an alternate scene from the beginning of Chapter 5 included in my “Drabbles and more” collection if you are interested in reading it.

The crown of Hongbin’s head dug into the gritty bed of dirt and dead leaves beneath him as his mouth remained ajar, helpless to the pitiful sounds escaping him as Hyuk’s cock slammed in and out of him. Sharp black nails pressed into his thighs, and with every roll of his hips, the remainder of Hongbin’s resolve waned.

Upon Sanghyuk’s return to their residence, Hongbin had breached an unfamiliar subject. The storm had passed, and as usual, Hyuk had returned as if nothing had changed. But this time there was an urgency that rose within Hongbin, a need to _know_. He would forget it soon, he knew that, and his gut begged him not to, but he had spoken before he could fight it.

“I have something to ask you.”

“Yes, love?” Hyuk replied sweetly, seemingly amused by the impending inquiry.

Things were always entertaining to Hyuk, as if everything was just a game that he would surely win. Hongbin’s lingering fear and sporadic curiosity was just an element that upped the difficulty and made things far more engaging.  

“I,” Hongbin hesitated.

Hyuk inched closer, nearly backing Hongbin into a corner of the room. Being trapped by Sanghyuk like this was distracting, the wide grin on his plump lips making them much more enticing. Hongbin wanted so badly to chase them with his own, let them dance all over his skin, convince him there was nothing to worry about.

But Hongbin prayed for his heart to be still, for his mind not to give into the swoon. He was feeling, _different_ , like something awakened inside of him the moment the storm had faded. Something like clarity. He wanted to hold fast to it while he still could.

“I need to know,” Hongbin started again with more conviction.

The tension in his forearms increased as he clenched his hands into tight fists, ready to put to question something he had never dared to ask before.

“Who am I?”

Sanghyuk stopped a breath away from Hongbin and his expression became unreadable. Hongbin released his fists and slumped back against the wall behind him, feeling as if it took all the strength in him to ask that simple question.

 _I see_ , Hyuk pondered. _I wonder if the arrival of one of these new souls has anything to do with this…change._

Hyuk brought a hand to his face, chuckling lowly behind his palm.

_Interesting. Very interesting._

A flash of fear shot through Hongbin making him tremble, the powerful sort that only Hyuk seemed capable of inciting. Had he crossed a line? Was he stepping into territory he ought not explore? Even as his knees threatened to buckle, something in him was begging, pleading to know.

Hongbin jumped when Hyuk took his hands, staring in shock as his thumbs rubbed the backs gently, almost lovingly.

“Oh Beanie,” Hyuk said with a fond little head shake. “I thought you would never ask.”

Hyuk leaned in and pressed a butterfly kiss to his lips.

“I’m sure you will find that out soon enough.”

Without waiting for a response, Hyuk took Hongbin by the hand and dragged him towards the door. Hongbin, too tired to resist, simply followed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stumbled behind. Even if he was given the chance to do so, he didn’t know what to say. He barely even understood what he himself had asked. What was the use of knowing, or even caring, when he had spent an unfathomable amount of time obliviously happy by Hyuk’s side in Shangri La? What had changed, and what has yet to change?

Sanghyuk released him to slide the door open and the sun poured in, filling the entire room with light. It was brilliant and warm, and it filled Hongbin with so much peace that the urgency in his mind started to melt away in its heat. When Sanghyuk turned around, he looked like an angel, his silhouette glowing as a warm smile graced his beautiful features, the wind ruffling his blonde hair and making his robes flutter off his frame as he offered his hand.

“Now, Hongbin. Come,” he said simply, an invitation as much as it was a command.

Like a whisper in the wind, his voice drifted through Hongbin’s mind so briskly and soothingly, becoming all that he could hear or think of. A beckoning voice that eased his very soul and coaxed him to, without hesitation, take his outstretched hand once more and allow himself to be pulled into the light.

…

Hongbin faded in and out of consciousness after getting lost in the light, the only thing grounding him to any form of reality being the tight grip of Hyuk’s warm hand. He wasn’t sure of where they were or how they had gotten there, nor of any passage of time it took to arrive, but it was far different from the Shangri La he had come to know.

It wasn’t the massive village of exquisite traditional homes, whose halls and pinewood floors shined like gold and roofs curved up into pastel clouds. Where pristine falls trickled into founts and ponds between prominent statues of legends and deities from the world over. Where exotic vegetation and a myriad of flowers and fruit trees he could never describe or identify sprouted in courtyards between rooms, on either side of high stone walls with intricate viewing windows and in random nooks and crannies spotted throughout each home. Where wildlife lived in joyous harmony with humans and incorporeal entities that floated through walls, from streams, into plants and floated into the sky.

No, this place was entirely different. While the sun streaked through tall stalks of bamboo and dotted their path with hazy yellow spotlights, it did little to radiate as much as what he had ever witnessed. There was something ominous in the air that made him tremble and squeeze Hyuk’s hand tighter, afraid of what could possibly happen to him if he dared to let go.

“Someday, you may very well end up finding your way here. Lost, like so many others before you.”

Hyuk sounded ancient in his monologue, not the playful youth Hongbin had spent his endless days with. In Hongbin’s dazed mind, there had always been a single point of truth about his state of being. Something he would never put to words for fear of it becoming more real to him than it already was. Something he would remember when these random moments of clarity came about but was thankfully forgotten moments later.

But here, that truth permeated the air. It breathed into the wind. It peered from the darkness of shadows cast by the trees and filled every hollow shoot surrounding them.

Hongbin wanted nothing more than to forget again.

Hyuk veered off the main road and led him down a dirt path, helping his tired body fight through thick growth and maneuver broken trees until they reached a hall of trees that led to a room of bamboo bathed in sunlight.

“When that time comes, we’ll play a new game; and I will surely find you.”

It was a threat and a promise. Hongbin could feel it at the core of his being.

“But until then, you will forget everything. You’ll stay by my side. You’ll know nothing, and all shall be as it has always been.”

Hyuk pulled him close, kissing him passionately and taking his breath away, effortlessly pulling him down onto a bed of earth that felt soft and welcome to his drained body.

“Think of me now, Hongbin,” Hyuk whispered between kisses, stroking his face as they lay side by side.

Hongbin’s hands clutched the silk of his robe as Hyuk’s arm curled around his shoulders, a hand clasping his chin as Hyuk stared deeply into his eyes.

Hongbin quickly got lost in those infinitely deep pools of brown. He could never resist, no matter how false the feeling he saw reflected in them. No matter how much reality threatened to take everything away. So long as he had Hyuk, he would find his peace again.

“That’s right,” Hyuk reassured as he stroked Hongbin’s bottom lip with his thumb, his voice a lower register than before, its thick baritone enough to make Hongbin tremble.

“Only me.”

Hongbin sighed into the touch and closed his eyes, bracing himself to meet Hyuk’s supple lips. His mind was already warped by visions of his timeless paradise and his body’s immense yearning to be touched. He had lost his clarity. This place no longer threatened him.

He was at peace once again.

Now he was on his back on a make-shift bed of dead plants and Hyuk had prepped him enough to thrust into him effortlessly. The urgency to know the answer to a question he had already forgotten was now replaced by the urge to uncoil the tight knot twisted in his stomach as Hyuk pounded into him deeper. Hongbin squeezed his arms around his neck, carelessly voicing his pleasure as he blankly stared up at the shoots of bamboo towering above them, his mind swirling and floating as if it was climbing higher and higher to reach the heavens above.

“Feel me,” Hyuk rasped, hot and heavy against his earlobe between heavy panting. “ _All_ of me.”

“Y-yes,” Hongbin desperately cried out. “Please.”  

Hyuk groaned and his hips stuttered, his movements almost out of control as his orgasm started to hit him. Hongbin felt his own approaching fast, and when the change in rhythm allowed for slower harder thrusts it hit him like a freight train.

Hongbin came in spurts that streaked across his abdomen, gasping as the last of his energy drained from his body and flashes of light spotted his vision. His muscles cried out for rest and his muscles clenched around Hyuk’s cock as his white-hot load shot into him.

Hongbin deflated, his arms falling helplessly from Hyuk’s shoulders, his chest rising and falling with every labored breath he took. His head lolled to the side, eye-level to the ground. He was drifting off to sleep and suddenly started to wonder if it was possible for him to dream anymore. It was the only thing that could explain the vision he had after catching sight of a strangely familiar school uniform.

…

“Do it Bin, kick his ass!”

A rowdy crowd of students roared at him, all dressed in that same tartan uniform, fists pumping into the air as a boy stood on wobbly legs in front of him.

The other boy was pleading with him, his face a blur except for the blood running down his nose, the same iron-tasting red dripping from his own split bottom lip.

Hongbin opened his mouth to speak but his voice came out cracked, barely even a whisper.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

A sudden push hurled Hongbin forward and the boy immediately went on the defense, throwing his hands up to catch him as they collided. The crowd roared all around them as the world started spinning. He stumbled on his feet as they grappled and clung to each other desperately, a fierce wind pushing at their backs.

“Look out!”

Screams cut through the air and all he could see was that boy staring down at him as his arms flailed out in front of him, the placid gray sky at his fingertips as the roof of the building became further and further away.

The rest of the vision was a mesh of images that flashed through his mind. A crowd of soundless screams. Flashes of red and blue that cut through the gray afternoon. The cold touch of something indescribable creeping up his spine. Standing at the bank of a river he didn’t know existed.

And the beautiful face of a strange boy, whose brown eyes glistened with tears and pastel robes emitted a strong scent of peaches.

A boy named Jaehwan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Due to the death of my fiancée, I cannot guarantee when I’m going to be able to really touch this story again. Not necessarily due to the subject matter, but more so due to my mental state and how it will affect my actual writing. Please still feel free to leave feedback. I won’t be bothered by it at all. But yea, no new update until further notice. Thank you for reading and thank you for understanding.


	7. Chapter 7

Hyuk carefully slid out of his sleeping partner and used a small blanket to cover Hongbin’s body. He leaned down, placing a light kiss on his forehead before getting up and fixing his clothes.

“Did you enjoy what you saw?” he asked, startling Wonshik.

Wonshik was flustered, surprised by the scene he had stumbled upon and the pointed stare he was receiving from him. His cheeks flared with embarrassment. He never intended to watch. He was just too stunned to look away.

In spite of his facial expression, the stranger didn’t seem entirely disturbed. He calmly fixed his clothes, combing his fingers through his hair to make his disheveled appearance look stylish and intentional instead of wrecked by sex. (It actually worked.)

“No,” Wonshik finally answered, taking a step forward. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I need help.”

Wonshik assumed that the man was well aware of himself and what might be going on in this strange place. Moreover, the fact that he and his partner were in what seemed like a secret hiding place in this vast forest implied that he knew his way around. It meant that he might be able to help him get home.

“You see, I’m lost,” Wonshik further explained, wanting to be rid of the awkward air around them and get right to the point.

Of course, that awkwardness was entirely one-sided, since the other seemed completely unphased by Wonshik’s presence and the desperation in his voice. Wonshik could tell, but his potential escape was still worth giving it a try.

“I tried asking around and no one seems to know anything. Am I going the right way to get back to Seoul? If not, can you steer me in the right direction?”

Wonshik expected to be turned away without any answers purely out of spite for disturbing the man’s secret rendezvous. What he didn’t expect was a sudden burst of cackling, loud and hysterical, complete with thigh slapping and tears prickling at the corners of the stranger’s eyes.

Sanghyuk couldn’t restrain himself. It had been such a long time since he was this entertained. The poor soul hadn’t the faintest idea what he was getting himself into. In three days, his favorite game would begin, and he had this lost boy to thank.

“I think I like you,” the stranger giggled, though Wonshik felt quite the opposite.

Something didn’t feel right to Wonshik. A change in the wind, a shift in the trees, or perhaps unseen bugs crawling up his legs (he scratched his pant leg profusely at the thought of that). He couldn’t place it, but he didn’t like it.

When the man stepped forward, Wonshik took an instinctive step back, spurring on another fit of laughter from him as a sinister grin spread across his face.

Wonshik’s insides started to twist, an unsettling feeling rising from the pit of his stomach as the grinning man approached him slowly like a cat stalking a mouse.

“Thanks to you, all the pieces are set in motion,” he proclaimed menacingly. Now, the real game can begin.”

Goosebumps rose on Wonshik’s skin and chills traveled down his spine. He jumped when a twig snapped beneath the man’s foot, a shot of phantom pain jabbing at his neck as if it had snapped instead. Thick clouds masked the sun, stealing the light from the room as a large black shadow stretched across the forest floor from the stranger’s feet, reaching out to grab Wonshik.

Fear threatened to keep him frozen in place, but Wonshik grit his teeth and turned to run, his fight or flight reflex kicking into overdrive at the impending danger. He didn’t know if it was that fear or his mind still lost in the confusion of this place that made the bamboo seem taller and the sky darker. He couldn’t find the road ahead or solid path cutting through the thicket, just endless bamboo wherever he turned.

Either his desperation was playing tricks on him or he was really seeing Jaehwan up ahead, the bright pastel of his robes in stark contrast to the looming trees casting shadows across anything they could touch.

“Wonshik!” Jaehwan called out, turning this way and that in search of him.

A sadistic laugh cut through the air, reverberating through quivering leaves and the unsteady ground beneath Wonshik’s feet. He kept running in spite of it, his hands gripping and pushing off the clammy bark of trees as he used them for momentum., It felt as if the very life was draining out of his legs as they struggled to carry him forward. trembling as he followed the pastel silks twisting in the darkness.

“Jaehwan,” he choked out.

The boy spun around, panic evident in his wide brown eyes. Wonshik was too afraid to contemplate what he was seeing behind him.

 _No! It’s not his time yet!_ Jaehwan thought franticly. _That’s not for you to decide!_

Jaehwan practically yanked his arm out of the socket, running with a speed that could only be matched by an Olympic athlete, or maybe something even faster and entirely inhuman. Wonshik struggled to keep up, crediting his fear and the comforting warmth of Jaehwan’s hand for the strength he had to do so. Wonshik’s chest hurt, his lungs contracting painfully as they ran for an endless amount of time, Jaehwan squeezing his hand tightly all the while.

The sun finally broke through the trees, battling shadows with rays of light that pierced the darkness, the crystal blue of the lake once again in sight.

Jaehwan released his hand and Wonshik buckled, falling to the ground on his hands and knees, until they also gave out and he fell on his side. It hurt to breathe. It seemed a miracle to move his legs again, and when he came into view, even Jaehwan seemed completely out of it.

“You, you ditched me,” was the first thing that came to mind when Wonshik finally caught his breath.

His thoughts were rushing like an express train, skipping stops along the lines of logic and fantastical possibilities. What he’d seen, where he was, what any of it meant; he couldn’t begin to comprehend. The sky looked painted. The air carried fragrances so potent he felt nauseous. The sound of birds chirping merrily sounded more like a Disney movie than real life. The only thing that felt real was the sweat of Jaehwan’s palm as they escaped the forest’s threshold. He was his link to clarity, the only that made sense.

“I didn’t ditch you,” Jaehwan denied, his mind also reeling from what had happened.

Jaehwan had a specific and simple job to do; transport souls to this realm without a hitch. He had done it for centuries, pretending to be a kind stranger while watching the confusion wash over their faces. He’d seen it get erased by peace after receiving a golden peach. He had also seen the terror that came with rejection, heard the screams mixed with laughter as Sanghyuk chased down those who were desperate enough to run.

Worse than seeing, he could feel Wonshik’s fear as he was pursued. He didn’t understand this new sensation of warmth linking their souls. Even guardians had soulmates, who were like sparks that faded in the flame of eternity. Souls who met them in other lifetimes in other planes of existence while they remained the same.

The pain was unbearable last time he met one. She was a withering thing, died at 92 of old age after living a full life with 3 marriages, 4 children and 9 grandchildren under her belt. They were connected through dreams. He was the beautiful flower boy who guided her through stages of her spiritual journey, until they met again on his boat and she couldn’t remember him, yet stared at him with that same enamored expression she had when she was 15.

But he didn’t know Wonshik’s soul. He wasn’t a valiant warlord from a powerful dynasty only remembered in the worn pages of history books. He wasn’t a weary farmer, whose skin was kissed by the sun and hands calloused from toiling in the fields preparing the harvest. Jaehwan couldn’t find him anywhere in the records, as if he hadn’t existed until the moment he…

“Ignoring me again?” Wonshik demanded once he had successfully caught his breath.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehwan apologized, and much to Wonshik’s surprise, laid in the grass behind him. “Just give me a minute.”

It was less of a request than a statement because in a matter of seconds his eyes were closed. Wonshik sat on his butt in the grass and sighed.

It was difficult not to stare, because even the surreal surroundings couldn’t compare to his ethereal beauty. As if a cherry blossom had morphed into human form, Jaehwan laid outstretched in the grass, the blades against his milky skin, pastel silk fluttering against his body as the wind blew, thick lips slightly parted as he inhaled and exhaled.

What drew him more than anything was the strange sensation of warmth. It had only increased when they touched, running hand in hand from a threat he couldn’t identify. Wonshik assumed it was body heat, but even now it remained, like hot cocoa sitting at the pit of his stomach and warming his entire body while the snow painted the world white outside his window.

Wonshik was surprised when suddenly Jaehwan opened his eyes and sprung up, swiping grass off his garments.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Come on,” Jaehwan replied offering his hand.

Wonshik took it and pulled himself up, noting how quickly Jaehwan had let go once he was up. Did he feel it too? He didn’t have time to put it to question. Jaehwan had started walking and was calling over his shoulder for Wonshik to follow.

“Wait, where are we going?”

Jaehwan didn’t look back at him. He just kept his pace and headed in the direction of the pavilion, his sandals clacking against the wooden bridge as he walked with a determined stride.

“We’re going to get some answers.”


End file.
